Darkness of Synergy
by Arbitas1
Summary: Rohan Fenris is a well known composer of music, but his dull day to day routine drives him to strive for a very different kind of life. (My first public writing, so everything not nailed down is subject to change. Rated T for mature themes, language, and future content)
1. Chapter 1 - Introductions

A/N: A few things to start, I've written for quite a long time, mostly for personal reasons, it is only now that I've decided to post some of the work online. Later chapters will be longer, this first one acted as an experiment as well as an introduction. At the end of this little exhibition period i'll determine if this is something I want to put more time into. Anyhow, on with the story!

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><p>The concert hall echoed with the sounds of the entering crowd. It was a vast, well decorated hall suited for plays and works of orchestra. Crafted velvet cushioned chairs filled rows upon rows on multiple balconies and floors.<br>Sitting towards the front, where orchestra members prepared themselves for the coming concert, was a red haired man in a fine white business suit accompanied by a woman with satin black hair flowing down passed her slim shoulders, matching a similarly colored dress.

They both sat impatiently in their seats, shifting and looking around often. The woman would occasionally ask the man a question in what seemed to be a frustrated manor. This made a smile appear across his face as he watched from the maroon red curtains draped in front of the stage. This made him wonder, who was this woman Roman had brought along with him?

The only reason for their presence here, at his first place of work, was because Roman spoke to him about receiving a "promotion". At this point he expected a bullet to the back of the head more than anything. It would make sense, he could be a loose end in the eyes of his employer. This was the reason for his demanding of a public meetup, a bit of security to soothe his aching mind, after all, he did have an image to maintain.

What unsettled him even more was that this was only the third of three total meetings he'd had with Roman. Most of the time one of many dead-drop locations was relayed to him with a name and a set amount of lien, and that would be all. This was normal, this was secure, why did he have to go and ruin this safe little relationship they had built? A smile once again appeared on his face as he thought "_I suppose that's the price of being a professional." _

He looked at his watch, five minutes till the curtains will rise. Unfortunately, his games must come to an end. He strode from the stage, keeping his eyes locked on the well dressed pair. As he walked he noticed the woman Roman had brought with him. She was quite the creature, a cold, but appetizing look in her fiery eyes, with a rather... desirable form as well. A smirk crept across his lips

Romans eyes quickly darted to see the man walking towards them, he wore a black conductors jacket that matched his hair and clashed vaguely with dull maroon eyes matching the curtains on the stage. "There he is, finally" he said quickly to Cinder, relief in his voice.

The conductor quickly sat down next to Roman and spoke calmly, with a voice that seemed to pierce the ear with pinpoint precision. "_Good Evening, it's good to see you again._" He made no eye contact. "yes… ugh, I think we'd like to to see you backstage." Roman spoke with a vague hint of uncertainty.

The conductor immediately turned to the both of them and cocked his head slightly. He spoke again "Ah, of course, my door is always open." The man's cold red eyes stared at Roman, as he desperately held the frustration back that was boiling from behind his eyes. He sighed and begrudgingly held his hand out for Roman to shake it. The ginger haired man took a sigh of relief and gave a firm handshake, the final signature to this tacit contract. The man immediately stood and strode off towards the stage, not speaking another word to them.

Shortly after the curtains rose, the man they had just spoken to stood in front of several dozen orchestra members. He took a short bow, turned to face the band, and the concert began.

The music began with a slow, somber melody carried by strings. The lights dimmed in the room as the pace slowly quickened, with more instruments soon joining in. The crowd was soon whisked away into a sea of mental imagery to accompany the heightened music in the air.

Several Months Prior

Roman walked into the bar, not completely sure what to expect. He immediately sat down in one of the closest booths, it was shaded and hidden to where he was most comfortable. When the faunus waitress came around he calmly ordered a drink and continued to hold back his anxiety.

He told his buddies in the White Fang that they were looking for a… "new hire". Oddly enough, with all of the quiet discourse going on behind the scenes, a good assassin was hard to come by. Several had come and gone, most were fairly generic. Some ex-military, some just regular people who had grown up on the streets looking for desperate work. A dependable employee, especially in this area, was one of many things lacking from Roman's operation.

The ginger man sat in the darkened booth, pumping his leg repeatedly on the hardwood floor. Every now and again the waitress attending the bar would watch his shady green eyes look over at the door, then his watch. His nervousness ultimately shining through as he also tapped his gloved fingers on the table-top.

Eventually one man with black hair, similar in length to Romans, walked in and looked around. His uneasy maroon eyes quickly darted around the bar and spotted Roman, the man immediately began to stride over to him.

He sat down straight across from Roman in the dark booth. He reached his hand across the table towards Roman and spoke "_Roman Torchwick?". _Roman quickly gave him a reply. "Yes, i suppose you are the new hire, then?" The small corner of the cafe was small, and very poorly lit, but he could still make out a small nod from the man sitting across from him.

Romans sporadic and nervous thoughts eased as he felt he had gained control over the situation. "Now, pardon me for being nosey, but… why are you of all people doing this?" The shadowy "new hire" cocked his head questioningly at Roman.

"_I don't understand…" _

"Well that's just it. Neither do I. If I had a mansion, money, and fame to come home to every night, I sure as hell wouldn't be out here."

The man across from him sighed in understanding, and slowly shook his head. Roman continued.

"What is Rohan Fenris doing here, asking to work for a guy like me?"

After a quaint silence, Rohan spoke up.

"_It is opinions like that, that I can never get behind. Men like you look up at people like me who are "Successful" _He raised his hands, gesturing air quotes. "_And assume that, because we have money and fame, that we are happy with our lives…" _Roman heard a quiet laugh emit from the man.

"_Its an illusion, a false image, a fa__ç__ade. Men like me sit in our houses of gold looking down at those outside the window in envy, Their lives are incredible, dynamic, ever changing and unique. While my life is spent lounging in endless maintenance, mundane stress and boredom." _The man spoke as he leaned forward, his face being revealed by the overhead light. Dull maroon eyes stared at Roman in frustration, anticipation, and flat anger.

Roman reached into his jacket pocket and removed a cigar from it, lighting it, he spoke out of the corner of his mouth.

"I think we're going to get along just fine, Rohan"

Rohan grinned, whatever hell awaited him from this point, its presence would never go unappreciated by him.


	2. Chapter 2 - Shattered Glass

Chapter 2

Taking his final bow, Rohan thanked the assembled crowd before him and stepped off the stage. Briskly walking into the backstage area, he hears the voice of Raphael, his manager, coming from a corner of the cramped room. "Hey Rohan! That was a great show, man!" He said as he swung his arm out, giving a pat on Rohans shoulder.

Raphael was someone Rohan classified as... good people. He was a lengthy, dark skinned man with longer brown hair pulled into a ponytail whenever he was in public. Many nights were spent between Raphael and Rohan drinking into the early hours of the morning. Back when his career hadn't taken off, when he was nothing more than another name. But through it all this man was relentlessly high spirited.

"_Thank you, Raphael, but don't forget who got me here_" he said as he smugly pointed a finger towards him. They stood in the hall for a few moments and conversed. "yeah, yeah… Hey if you need to head out, its all good, your ride should be waiting for you outback right… now!" He said as he looked down at his wristwatch, pleased at his own sense of timing.

The sinking feeling of anxiety sunk into Rohans stomach again. He remembered why he had asked for an early ride out. Bitter images of Roman and this mystery woman he brought flashed through his head. He frowned. The thought of these two entering his home to discuss this business of theirs disgusted him, especially considering the nature of this woman he's brought along. His mind did as it always does, consider the worst possible scenario and conclusion and immediately jump to it as being the most likely.

He would be arrested for murder, breaking and entering, vandalism, destruction of government property, conspiring with several known criminals, and possibly even terrorism, all on several accounts.

He jolted back to the environment around him as he realized he'd been standing there, alone behind the stage for a few minutes. Red faced, he briskly walked down the corridors towards his prep room. Taking note of the absence of any stage crew in the area.

He turned the corner to be greeted by Roman and his companion. He once again took note of her shapely figure and her changed expression. When he had seen her in the concert hall, she seemed impatient, calm, but flustered only ever so slightly. Now, in these dim halls, she had a look of control, power, and confidence. He hadn't heard her speak a single word but he already decided, he did not like this woman.

Passing them, he gestured to the door further down the hallway, "_shall we?_" Roman remained completely quiet, and instead his companion spoke. "of course" and she flashed him a smile. It made his blood run cold, it was not warm nor welcoming in any way. It was cold, and deliberate, like the look a predator gives its prey before ripping it to shreds. It's a look he himself had given a few times in the past.

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><p>"<em>Explain to me again why I need a babysitter on this mission…"<em>

"So you don't screw it up"

He turned to look at the masked faunus through his own smudged lenses. The cold night air bit at their skin, accentuated by the wind of the buildings rooftop, heightening the tension between the two assassins.

He hadn't been told his "partners" name, in case he turned out to be a traitor and somehow managed to escape. But what he did know was that he was a Bull faunus, a temperamental one at that. Neither were very fond of each other, but they shared a common goal.

Roman had sent him to assassinate a particularly nosey captain that had refused the White Fangs bribes in the past, and was not striking up investigations concerning Romans operation. _Him _on the other hand, had been sent to evaluate his performance in the field, and make sure he wasn't a traitor.

"How long do you plan on standing here, freezing our asses off?"

"_As long as it takes for the frost to clamp your jaw shut" _

He heard the faunus curse his name under his breath, bringing a pleased smile to his face. His outfit of choice was fit for the cold, a thick, dark coat that reached down to his knees, with several layers of armor and clothing underneath. The hood of his coat in combination with his full facial mask hid him from the cold admirably, while the faunus stood in nothing more than a white-half mask and a thin black uniform.

The magnifying lenses in his mask allowed him to survey the streets below at ease. Within fifteen minutes he had a rough map of the neighboring building plotted out. He quickly ran over the objectives in his head once again.

'_Assassinate the target'_

'_steal the White Fang case files' _

'_leave no witnesses' _

He stood from his crouched stance at the edge of the roof, turned, and began to walk past his companion towards the other edge.

"Finally"

Turning towards where we once sat, Rohan sprinted at full speed toward the buildings edge. Taking a long leap into the air, aiming straight for a window on the fourth story of the neighboring building.

He flung his arms out in front of him, slamming his eyes shut in preparation for the shower of broken glass. Rolling onto the floor, he flung his eyes open to see the empty room he had scouted from the roof.

Quickly he slid under the table in the middle of the small room, paying careful attention to the doors on either side of him. Two pairs of heavy footsteps entered the room, lightly armored boots of guardsmen as they hastily searched the room.

He frantically thought of ways to deal with the situation, closed his eyes and slowly exhaled. '_Calm down, Rohan, you've done this a hundred times.' _

Exiting from under the table behind one of the guards, he placed his hands on either side of his head and twisted as hard as he could. Truth be told he'd only practiced this move in less dire circumstances, he had no assurance it would work. He closed his eyes, silently praying that this would work.

A crack and a pop later, the man lifelessly fell to the floor. Opening his eyes, Rohan turned his attention to the other guard. Remembering the countless hours training for this very moment. He quickly performed a heavily practiced kick, designed to rend the enemies leg useless. Rohan was surprised to hear a thick pop, and saw the man fall to the floor, his joint broken and useless.

Before the shocked guard had a chance to make any sound, a weighted fist knocked him into unconsciousness. Swiftly remembering the conditions he operated under, Rohan drew his blade, and walked over to the unconscious guard laying on the blue carpet.

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><p>Tensions only got worse as the night went on. They waked out to the limousine parked behind the theatre, Roman and his mysterious date let themselves into the vehicle. Rohan swung around to the drivers side and tapped on the window, he spoke as it rolled down. "what's the situation sir?" the voice of an older man inside the car spoke with a concerned tone.<p>

Rohan looked through the window at Eddy, an older, graying man in formal attire, regardless of having not attended the concert. Eddy practically raised Rohan, he was his families butler, while they were still around, and Rohans closest personal friend.

"Roman's brought a date"

"Why's that so odd? I know plenty of women who love a roguish type."

"That's not what I meant, smartass. His 'date' is a business associate of some kind."

Eddy reached forward, patting the dashboard smugly;

"Oh, i'm sure we'll be just fine sir, truly."

Immediately Rohan felt immense reassurance. Eddy has the situation under control.

He then strode to the door of the matte black limousine and climbed into the car.


End file.
